


Fox Fire

by WizardsGirl



Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU Naruto, Alternate Universe, Angst, BAMF Kyuubi, BAMF Naruto, Behavior Modification Training, Dark, Gen, Grief, Injury Induced Mental Instibility, Injury Recovery, Loss, Mentor Fic, More Tags as I update, PTSD, Rage, Trauma, Unwilling Time Travel, messing with the timeline, ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1386007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardsGirl/pseuds/WizardsGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Konoha Fell. All the Nations did. The future was bleak, and litered with the corpses of those who remained. ANBU Kitsune's latest mission was compromised, and an attempted Suicide-Jutsu had unforseen consequences. How will he cope, seeing his home standing proud once more, and seeing himself before war and the deaths of his Precious People had buried his heart in stone and broken his mind as well?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fox Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Random Plunny thanks to reading too many Naruto Time Travel Fics... Enjoy!

#  Fox Fire

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself. ~Alfred Lord Tennyson, " **The Last Tournament,"** Idylls of the King_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

 

Pain.

It's all he knows, his mind fragmented, broken, flashes of memories drowned by the all-consuming **PAIN**.

He drifts in and out of consciousness.

A flash of scene here, a snippet of conversation, the feel of someone else’s hands on his too-sensitive skin, the smell of something sterile, Healing Chakra soothing his mind for just a few, precious seconds.

All of it is there, then gone again, faster than he can stand at some points.

He doesn't know how long he's been like this, consumed by pain and fragmented thoughts and sensations, but, suddenly, he knows he's not alone in his head.

 _Who are you?_ He thinks, asks, wonders at the presence.

 _Yamanaka Inoichi_ , it, _HE_ , replies, voice firm but gentle in his pained, swirling thoughts and broken mind. Instantly, flashes of memory, of pale, long blond hair and sharp blue eyes and flower petals on the floor, flood his pain-wrecked mind.

 _Yes,_ Inoichi encourages gently, and he feels a thrill with the knowledge that he _knew_ something. _Who are you?_ Memories flash, times before the pain.

 

**_"When you wear this mask, you have no name," ANBU Commander was telling him and the two other new recruits as they knelt before him to accept their masks, their identities. "You are only your mask. You do not exist without this mask." _ **

**_His mask is being handed to him, the snarling visage of a fox, and something bitter but ironically amused fills his chest as he places the Chakra-enhanced porcelain on his face._ **

**_"You are now Kitsune, and nothing more."_ **

**_"Hai, Taicho," he replied, voice a calm monotone._ **

 

Inoichi's voice disrupts the memory, the most complete memory he's had since the pain has set in, and he, _Kitsune_ , doesn't know if he should be angry or relieved.

 _What village are you from?_ More flashes, Hokage Mountain, a Konoha Headband, passing the Uchiha District when it was full of life, the Memorial Stone.

 _That's good, Kitsune, you're doing very good,_ Inoichi praised him gently. _Can you tell me what happened? How you got hurt?_ Training kicked in, and all that filled his mind for several seconds was random series of numbers, dozens of ID numbers, pictures of numbers, page numbers, barcodes, points, children singing number games, money exchanges-

 _No, good, good, you're doing very good, Kitsune, I'm not trying to get your mission info, calm down, that's it, calm, calm..._ The images and memories died down, until all that remained was the subconscious memories the name Yamanaka had brought up, flashes of blond hair and pale blue eyes and flower petals scattered on the floor, as Kitsune waited for more questions.

 _Kitsune, I want to know how you got hurt. Not your mission. Can you tell me what happened?_ Flashes of memory reluctantly flew by.

 

**_Insane, furious black eyes and a bloody face snarling obscenities at him, as the S-Class Nuke-nin managed to grab a hold of Kitsune's face, thumbs pressing against his mask._ **

**_"If I'm going to die, I'll drag you to hell with me!" The Nuke-nin screamed, cackling cruelly even as Chakra-created lava erupted from those hands, and the world dissolved into heat and pain and the flaring of Chakra as Kitsune struggled desperately to get away even as the Nuke-nin died with a smile. Kitsune's abnormally large Chakra roared, the image of a fox flashing all around him, and then-_ **

**_Darkness_ ** _._

_Good, good job, Kitsune,_ Inoichi praised soothingly, even though his voice was tighter, straining, as the pain resurfaced with a vengeance. _Rest now, the Medic-nin are doing everything they can, you're going to be alright, understand?_

 _Hai_ , Kitsune manages to think, before he feels Inoichi's presence melt away, and found himself ensconced once more in the broken flashes of his mind, which remained fragmented, even as the lightning-white pain dulled the smallest amount, letting more memories rise little by little to the cracked surface. All he could do was follow orders, he knew.

And so, Kitsune let his consciousness sink below the damaged parts of his mind, and rested as his body began to heal.

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts.  ~Charles Dickens_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

 

When Kitsune finally wakes up, he's in a hospital room, and confusion wars with broken memories.

There were no hospitals left, he knew. Only Medic Tents, where you could be patched up enough not to die and sent immediately on your way. War had no time for injuries, and those who couldn't be saved were killed quickly and kindly, to save the weary Medic-nin their Chakra. The last of the hospitals had fallen when the last of the Five Nations, Kumo, had fallen. There were no Enemies or Allies any more. Just the Shinobi against Them, the Destroyers. He knew this, had accepted his part as an assassin and weapon when he took up his mask, when he became Kitsune, and abandoned the name of Uzumaki Naruto at nineteen.

The War needed those who were willing to do _everything_ to protect their precious people, not idealistic idiots who dreamed of being Hokage of a Village that had been gone for two years already.

Now, at twenty-five, Kitsune was simply Kitsune, and Naruto had died with the rest of the Rookie Nine and Gai's team. Only Kitsune and Shikamaru remained, and even then, Shikamaru had been maimed to the point of death by the time Kitsune had reached Madara's experimental Nuke-nin camp in a desperate attempt to save his only remaining friend.

Now he was here, and he remembered only fragments, more than before but less than he was used to, like he had dismissed a million Kage Bunshin at once and they had all been in different places.

"Ah, you're awake," a familiar voice declared quietly; Kitsune slowly turned his head, peering through his mask's eye-slits at the blond next to him.

"...Hai," was all he said, and stared at the blond. Inoichi had died years ago, avenging Ino's death just six months after the Fall of Konoha. The man in front of him was younger than that grief-stricken shinobi, but not much younger than he had been the first time they had met, when Kitsune had been sixteen and arguing with Tsunade and other members of the council during War Preparations.

"I am Yamanaka Inoichi," the man introduced himself. "We haven't gotten to meet before, outside of your mindscape, and then it was only briefly."

"...I remember," Kitsune informed him, voice hoarse and quiet, but monotonous and polite. (He remembered well the lessons of his trainers. The beatings and blooding and insults, as they all but carved into his skin that being loud was _death_ , being noticed was _death_ , and being insubordinate was _death_. He had learned, not as fast as some, but the lessons had stuck much longer than those who had learned faster.).

"That's good," Inoichi informed him simply, nodding his head even as sharp, pale blue eyes watched him. Kitsune stared back, before frowning slightly, remembering the fight that had placed him here. He lifted a hand, pausing to notice the pale, scarred flesh that, for once, wasn't hidden beneath his uniform gloves, before letting it rise to touch, gently, upon his mask. He could _just_ make out the familiar bumps and curls of the snarling fox, but he felt even more keenly, the new warps and bubbles that the suicide-Jutsu had left, the Chakra-enhanced mask had survived to a degree, but, as he dragged his fingers along the seams, he came to the silent realization that he would never be able to _not_ be Kitsune ever again.

It had melted into his skin, and only small pockets had remained undamaged enough not to be fused with his flesh.

"The Medic-nin were the ones to re-open your eye slits," Inoichi informed him as Kitsune sat with his hand on his mask for a few moments. "They also re-opened the slit for your mouth, a little longer and wider than it's supposed to be, but that's so you are better able to breath." Kitsune nodded at him, and then traced his hand up to dance his fingertips lightly over the horribly scarred, bare skin of his scalp, and the warped, new shapes of his ears. His head would most probably remain this way, he acknowledged; burned and scarred even worse than Morino Ibiki's had been.

At least he was alive to be amused by the irony of that, he supposed.

"The Hokage wished to be informed when you woke up," Inoichi continued calmly. "He should be here soon to debrief you." Kitsune nodded and slowly let his hand return to his side. The two of them sat in companionable silence for a little while, until the door to the room opened, and Sarutobi Hiruzen walked in, like a mirage from long ago, just as wrinkled and kindly looking as Kitsune remembered, with a core of steel and the Will of Fire glittering behind his calm gaze.

Greetings, Kitsune-san,” the Hokage greeted calmly, seriously; Kitsune bowed as best he could from his seated position, closing his eyes against the onslaught of broken memories that tried to overwhelm him, held back by training and will alone, as had happened so many times during the War, when grief tried to drown him or rage tried to convince him to slaughter without care for himself, Kurama’s toxic Chakra attempting to unconsciously egg it on even as the Fox murmured soothingly in his mind, ever-patient.

“Hokage-Sama,” Kitsune greeted formally, fist against his heart in the standard, respectful bow that was required of an ANBU to their Hokage.

“It is good to see you up, Kitsune-san,” the old man informed him as he settled into the empty seat next to Inoichi, puffing on his pipe as he watched the scarred ANBU from under the brim of his hat, eyes narrowed faintly. “Though, I am curious about that, seeing as how the Medics have declared you all but dead just yesterday, and yet, here you are,” he murmured around his pipe. “Wounds healed over as if you’d been healing for years, and not twelve hours.” Kitsune remained silent, knowing where this was heading, but not saying anything.

“Inoichi informs me that you are loyal to Konoha, to your deepest level, even when pan is driving your mind to its breaking point,” the old man said after a few moments of silence; Kitsune merely nodded, not surprised in the least. Konoha, for all the cruelties it had given him in his younger years, was his _everything_. When it fell, the rage and grief had made him into a monster, and, for a week after, he could be found murdering slews of enemy Shinobi without any hesitation, eyes fire-red and fangs barred, until Kurama himself had gotten irritated and had beaten some sense into him in his mindscape. He felt a vague sense of amusement from the exhausted presence in the back of his mind, and his lips twitched fondly at it.

“Hai, Hokage-Sama,” was his only reply in the waiting silence; Sarutobi hummed, puffing on his pipe, dark eyes sharp.

“And yet,” the Hokage continued conversationally, “I have no record of an ANBU with the designation Kitsune, at all.” Inoichi had shifted slightly, pale blue eyes sharp, and Kitsune could recognize the readiness for an expected battle, and knew that, if he tried to attack of flee, the Yamanaka would be ready. He didn’t move.

“Hai, Hokage-Sama,” Kitsune replied easily, and continued to sit and wait, eyes on the Hokage as the old man watched him consideringly.

“Hmm,” was the old man’s reply, lips twitching ever so slightly. After a few minutes of pondering in silence, the Hokage stood and walked towards the nearest window, staring out onto the Village; Kitsune watched him, head tilted curiously, wondering what the old man would do.

“ANBU Kitsune,” Sarutobi finally spoke; the _command_ in that voice had Kitsune’s spine snapping straight, shoulders squaring, muscles ready. In this way, he and the emotionless members of ANBU-Ne had a lot in common, for he had been brutally trained that the Highest Superiors Word Was Law. If Sarutobi ordered him to commit suicide, to murder thousands of innocents, to pretend to be a _rabbit_ right now, he would do it without an ounce of hesitation. He instantly felt the sharpened interest and wariness of Inoichi behind him, and then the vaguely horrified realization when the blonde sensed his devotion.

“From this moment, you are ANBU no longer,” Sarutobi announced, puffing on his pipe. “You are a Konoha Shinobi, and you act as such. For the next six months, you will be under observation and on probation. If it is proven that you are no longer fit for duty, you will be executed, immediately. Do you understand this, Kitsune?” The now ex-ANBU bowed his head and once more placed his fist over his heart, mind already shifting and adapting to the orders, becoming exactly what was needed to complete his orders.

“Hai, Hokage-Sama.” Sarutobi nodded thoughtfully, before turning to examine the man sitting on the bed patiently.

“You are also to report to myself once a week, and to take a psyche-evaluation with the T&I department once a month from now on. Understood?”

“Hai, Hokage-Sama,” Kitsune agreed immediately, not too bothered by that.

“You will be released from the hospital today,” the Hokage continued calmly. “Another Shinobi will lead you to a nearby apartment building, where you shall live until your probationary period is over, and you are able to once more accept out-of-village missions. Until you can support yourself, you shall live there.” With his orders given, Sarutobi walked towards him, and set his hands on Kitsune’s shoulders, holding his eyes seriously through the thin slits on the ex-ANBU’s mask.

“I do not know who you were before your put on this mask,” the Hokage said with quiet seriousness, eyes keen and edged with steel. “I know only that your loyalty to this Village has kept you alive, and that determination, that Will of Fire, will always be welcome. Welcome home, Kitsune,” he said quietly; Kitsune closed his eyes tightly as the old man pulled away, and bowed his head as he listened to the Hokage and Inoichi leave.

“Arigato… Jiji.”

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_“Happiness depends on ourselves.” ~Aristotle_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**


	2. Day 1-7

** Fox Fire **

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_“Knowledge is Power.”_

_~Francis Bacon_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

Kitsune knew he was in trouble the moment he was outside the hospital doors.

Konoha was thriving, filled with life and motion and conversation. Civilians and Shinobi went about their daily lives and followed their usual routines. The sky was clear, the smell of summer in the air, the rustling of leaves a soothingly familiar background and the four great faces of the Hokage Mountain watched over them all, unmarred and whole.

It was peaceful and bright and filled with thriving _life_ … And his vision doubled, memories overlapping the scene around him ruthlessly.

_Konoha was nothing but a pile of scorched rubble. Bodies were strewn about, rotting under the unforgiving heat of the summer sun, crows feasting on their exposed entrails, stray dogs fighting over the dead. The taste of ashes was thick in the air, some piles of rubble still smoking, and the earth blackened and ruptured. The trees that were still standing were broken, gnarled things, bare of any greenery, looking like twisted, anguished souls reaching towards the unforgiving sky as if asking for mercy from an uncaring Kami. The silence was deafening, but for the mocking cries of the scavengers, and the echo of phantom screams that remained in the air…_

“Kitsune-san?” came a voice, pulling him from the memory and locking him back in the here and now. Kitsune took a slow breath, and focused his eyes onto the Shinobi, recognizing Genma, who he’d last seen covered in blood and destroying a unit of enemy Shinobi with a hard glare, senbon clenched between his teeth as his Chakra erupted from him in a bright flash, the Suicide-Jutsu taking the seven enemy nin with him, protecting the Medic Tent that was desperately attempting to evacuate a group of seventeen children.

“…Hai,” Kitsune responded quietly under those sharp eyes; Genma nodded slowly, and held out his hand.

“The name's Genma,” he introduced himself, shifting the senbon in his mouth to the opposite side of his mouth. “I'm going to be taking you to your apartment, and escorting you around the Village for the next few days, before someone else will take my place.” Kitsune nodded slowly, and shook his hand lightly.

“Nice to meet you,” he murmured, and then silently followed the other Shinobi as they walked, fighting off phantoms and memories and struggling to stop himself from cringing down into himself instead of walking upright. Focusing on the here and now, Kitsune ignored the vaguely concerned/suspicious looks Genma was shooting him from the corner of his eye, and instead spent the entire twenty minute walk (a walk that was much slower than it should have been, for a Shinobi, but he was still recovering and so they travelled as Civilians) trying to fight off the double-vision of his memories.

“The Hokage told me to tell you that you don’t need to worry about doing mission for the next three months,” Genma’s calm voice interrupted Kitsune’s thoughts, but also managed to lock him into the here-and-now, and Kitsune nodded his bandage-covered head to show he had heard. “Your living expenses will be paid for, and, when you’re fit for duty again, you’ll be starting on low-to-high C-Ranks and lower, all in-Village.” Again, Kitsune nodded. It was a standard procedure for a Probationary period. Three months to get a feel for the Shinobi, two months of nothing but in-Village missions, and then a month of low-rank outside missions with strict observation.

A flash of yellow and orange had Kitsune’s hand lashing out without a thought, catching the collar of the colorful blur in an instant and holding said captive off the ground as it squawked and wriggled as effectively as an angry kitten. He blinked down at the boy in his grip, and was rather stunned to find _himself_ , young and innocent and untouched by the horrors of war, whiskered cheeks puffed out and large blue eyes scrunched closed in a scowl. For a minute, Kitsune felt light-headed, staring down at the scowling face he hadn’t seen in the mirror in a decade.

“Come _on_ , lemme _go_!” The boy complained, voice high and loud and _whiny_ , and Kitsune tilted his head, abruptly nostalgic for the annoying little shit he had been as a child. He lifted the boy up and turned him so they were face-to-face, watching those bright blue eyes un-squint, and the indignant anger slowly fade to fascinated curiosity as they darted over his bandaged head and warped mask.

“Are you an ANBU?” The boy asked hopefully; Kitsune tilted his head further to the side.

“I was just released from that duty, Gaki,” he informed his younger self, and didn’t even blink with small, thin fingers, soft and lacking too many callouses, were suddenly on his mask, trailing the lines and warps and bubbles, the boys breath hitching softly as he felt where the mask melted into Kitsune’s skin, and the edges of the horrible scars just under the bandages, blue eyes gleaming in fascination and sympathy and curiosity and awe.

“Ne, Nii-san!” The boy declared, face lighting up in a wide, bright grin, face shifting into a fox-like expression. “You’re so cool!” Kitsune chuckled and set the boy on his feet, dragging one gloved hand lightly through the thick, blond spikes of hair his younger self sported, vastly amused by… Well, himself, really. His hand was snatched up by the younger boy, who couldn’t be more than twelve, and probably getting ready for his final Academy Exam. “My name’s Uzumaki Naruto, Nii-san, and I’m gonna be the next Hokage, dattebayo!” He grinned and wriggled in place like a puppy, and Kitsune chuckled again and nodded.

“Big dreams, for a little Gaki,” he responded, amused. “If you want to get that far, you’ll have to work hard, especially at things you don’t like.” Instantly, Naruto’s face scrunched into a pout, cheeks puffed out in annoyance.

“Nani?! Why?!” Kitsune crouched, and barely spared any thought for the patiently waiting Genma, who was leaning against the nearby wall and absentmindedly chewing on his senbon while Naruto and Kitsune talked.

“Because, Gaki-chan,” the ex-ANBU informed his younger self calmly, sincerely. “Hokage’s do a lot of things they don’t like. They spend a lot of their time stuck behind a desk, doing paperwork, assigning missions, and attending meetings. They rarely get to see battle, they don’t get much free time, and they still have to make time for training and such, or else they get weak and compliant, and a lazy Shinobi tends to be a dead one… Well,” he mused, smiling beneath his mask. “Unless you’re a Nara, of course.” Genma snorted and smirked around his senbon as Naruto frowned, forehead furrowing in thought.

“…I guess that’s true, Nii-san,” the boy finally, reluctantly admitted, eyes squinting shut in consideration, before his whole face lit with determination, blue eyes locking on the shadowed holes in Kitsune’s mask, where his own blue eyes were hidden. “That just means I’ll have to start training extra hard right away, Nii-san, and then I’ll be the strongest ninja ever, and you’ll have to start doing missions and stuff for me instead of Jiji! Dattebayo!” He grinned fiercely in challenge, and Kitsune felt abruptly, wistfully fond of his younger self, setting one thin, gloved hand gently on the boy’s head with a small, approving hum.

“Prove it to me, Gaki-chan,” he encouraged, and stood, stepping back and turning to Genma with a nod. “See ya, kit,” he called over his shoulder and Naruto nodded, before blinking and scowling.

“Hey!” He called after the two Shinobi, who didn’t stop walking, but obligingly glanced back. “You never told me your name!” The ex-ANBU smiled faintly.

“The name’s Kitsune,” he called back easily. “See you around, Gaki-chan.” Naruto shouted farewell and then ran off, no doubt heading to a training ground or Iruka, or even the Hokage, to share his plans and demand Jutsu and the like. Kitsune shook his head fondly, and wondered how soft he’d gotten since that Suicide-Jutsu landed him in this Time…

“Cute kid,” Genma said lazily; Kitsune hummed absently.

“His stealth is probably rather high when he concentrates, considering the outfit he’s in, and how loud he seems,” Kitsune remarked, flickers of memories from his own Stealth Missions and pranks coming to the forefront of his mind, making him breath out a sigh. Genma hummed in consideration, before nodding to a nearby apartment building and leading the ex-ANBU up the stairs to the top floor, a corner room. Kitsune looked around, and nodded silently in approval. Two windows, one door, only neighbor was on the living room side of the apartment so no one would be able to attack him from there. Looking out the windows found one facing out into an empty alley, and the other looking out onto the bare roof of the building next door. He would set down a few traps, some Seals, just in case.

Just because he was home didn’t mean he was safe, after all.

“It is perfectly adequate,” Kitsune informed Genma calmly, turning and giving the Tokubetsu Jounin a respectful bow, old habit kicking in. “Arigato, Genma-san.” The Tokujo arched an eyebrow in surprise at the gesture, before shrugging and nodding back, hands slipping into his pockets to hide the nervous twitch in the digits.

“It was nothing,” he replied idly, shrugging again. “An ANBU will be nearby, watching, so if you need anything, they’ll accompany you until I catch up.” Kitsune nodded his head silently, and watched the Tokujo nod before leaving. Moving around the apartment, he immediately began to set up traps, all of them non-lethal, as he was in a friendly zone. Not all of them were _nice_ , of course, but they were made for capturing and distracting the enemy, and to alert him immediately.

Proximity Seals glowed with his Chakra before disappearing from view on the walls, windowsills, floor, door, doorframe, and kitchen. Wire hid in shadows and crevices; tightly wound just enough to cut lightly but not deeply any who triggered them. Tags and other traps awaited victims, and, finally, Kitsune felt some tension ease from his shoulders, and made his way to the kitchen, where he checked all the food and water he’d been provided, making sure none of it was drugged or bugged. When it all came back clear, he swiftly made himself a fruit-and-vegetable smoothie, knowing that it would taste gross, but also knowing it was what his body needed most at the moment, and he was, as yet, unable to eat any meat, as per Medic’s orders.

Settling down on the floor with his smoothie, thin straw slipping through the slit in his mask for his mouth, Kitsune set about organizing his fragmented memories to the best of his ability, and coaxing his badly depleted Chakra into slowly recovering.

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_“_ _Life is like riding a bicycle–in order to keep your balance, you must keep moving.”_

_~Albert Einstein_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

 

“How are you today, Kitsune-kun?” Sarutobi asked as he absently continued working on his paperwork, while the ex-ANBU stood before his desk with the rigid alertness of all practice ANBU.

“I am well, Hokage-Sama,” the man replied, and Sarutobi hummed, finishing the page before he leaned back, steepling his fingers and watching the permanently masked Shinobi consideringly from beneath the edge of his hat. He could feel that the ex-ANBU’s frankly absurd amount of Chakra had begun to replenish, and that any stiffness from his injuries a week before had faded away. From his men’s reports, Kitsune had rarely left his apartment, excepting the few times he seemed too agitated to remain cooped up, and during those times he sped through the Village with his ANBU watchers, mapping the whole Village before dropping down to the streets in order to walk aimlessly about with Genma or Hayate, who had taken up the Mission when Genma was required for something else.

He was a quiet fellow, polite and well-trained, attentive and insightful.

It disturbed Sarutobi, how much of the man’s personality had come from what had been, undoubtedly, a brutal behavioral modification and torturous training regimen. If the man hadn’t been able to deal so well with Naruto on the three occasions the two had met, or with his fellow Shinobi, Sarutobi would think he as ANBU-Ne, but he was too human in a majority of his actions to have been _that_ broken.

But he _was_ damaged, and he didn’t need Inoichi’s report to see that himself.

“You are settling well?” He asked; Kitsune bowed his head in a silent affirmative. Sarutobi nodded slowly. “What do you think of young Naruto? I’ve been told that you and he have met several times now.” Kitsune was silent for a moment, head tilting to the side in an unconscious action, something he did when he was considering something.

“…Gaki-chan has potential,” he finally acknowledged, voice quiet and slow, thoughtful. “From what I’ve heard of his exploits and from what I’ve seen of him, he has a high degree of stealth when he wishes, and an aptitude for traps and intelligence gathering, as shown with his more elaborate pranks, during which he will study his target for a few weeks, if not longer. He has a high potential as an Assassin or Spy, and with his large Chakra reservoir, he has the ability to be a heavy-hitter and front liner. His control is shit, and his mentality is rather… Immature, at the moment,” the ex-ANBU settled on delicately, before he shrugged. “However, his first mislabeled Mission should help with that, and a hands-on firm approach by whoever his Jounin Sensei will be would fix that quickly. So, yes, I see great potential in him.” Sarutobi nodded slowly, honestly surprised by the rather positive endorsement of his favorite Shinobi-in-Training.

“That is good to hear,” he said, carefully considering the man’s words and agreeing with his points. “I hope you continue to encourage him to improve, then.” Kitsune bowed his head calmly.

“Hai, Hokage-Sama,” he agreed, and stood silent and still, waiting; Sarutobi bit back a sigh, and idly wondered what, exactly, the young man’s trainers had done to get him to such a point.

“Dismissed, Kitsune-san,” he ordered; the Shinobi bowed, fist-to-heart, and disappeared out the window, followed immediately by the blur of his watchers. Sarutobi allowed himself a sigh and a head shake, before returning to his paperwork.

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_“If you want to know somebody’s mind, listen to their words. If you want to learn somebody’s heart, listen to their actions.”_

_~Unknown_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**


	3. Day 9-12

** Fox Fire **

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_To know the road ahead, ask those coming back._

_~Chinese Proverb_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_Screams…_

_They were screaming…_

_Blood, so red, bright in the sunlight, dark in the moon light, painting the ground, their bodies, his hands, too-hot, cooling to a tacky sludge as he kept moving._

_More screams._

_Rage pounded through him._

_Another enemy fell, throat torn out by a swift, clawed hand._

_These scum didn’t deserve to live when They had died._

_When his Everything had Fallen…_

_Heart pounding in his ears._

_Pounding…_

_Pounding…_

_Pounding…_

Kitsune shot up, abruptly on his feet, torn from the shattered memories of his past/future, to the realization that the pounding in his ears was his door, and the shrieking in his head wasn’t just the screams of enemies and allies alike, or the cries of scavengers on the Battlefields, but his Proximity Seals alerting him to his guest. Blinking, the ex-ANBU appeared in front of his door in a blink of the eye, armed and ready. With a light flare of his Chakra, though, his weapons were returned to their proper places and he had the door open, staring down at the small form on the other side with curiosity.

“Heh heh, hiya, Nii-san!” Naruto chirruped with an honestly sheepish grin. Kitsune took in his ragged orange jumpsuit, the strong scent of chemicals, and the frog-shaped backpack on his back. Silently, he opened his door wider and tilted his head in a ‘come on in’ gesture. Naruto brightened and darted past him, hesitating before he toed off his shoes and left the backpack next to them in the hallway and, with barely a glance for permission, he was disappearing into the depths of the apartment, exploring.

Kitsune shook his head and went to one of his two windows, opening it and gesturing rapidly into the dark. The glint of a white mask, and the sound of rustling leaves, was the only confirmation that his message was received, and that the Hokage would be informed that Naruto was safe with him and staying for an undetermined amount of time. Nodding, satisfied, Kitsune closed the window and absently re-set his Proximity Seal, moving back into the bedroom area, which was technically his living room, but the futon was comfortable so that’s where he slept.

“You can have half the futon or I can lend you my Mission pallet for however long you’ll be here,” Kitsune informed his younger self when he found the twelve-year-old gluttonously ravaging his cabinets; Naruto had the decency to blush and swallow his large bite of sandwich, smiling sheepishly and setting his food down to scratch the bridge of his nose. Kitsune didn’t comment, remembering well the echoing ache of hunger from his younger days, barely quenched by copious amounts of his beloved Ramen. Ramen was cheap and delicious, but he knew, even when he ruthlessly defended it all during his younger years, that it was far from filling.

“Eat whatever you want, kit,” he told his younger self simply, walking over and ruffling his uncovered hand lightly through those thick, blind spikes, smiling faintly behind his mask even as he grabbed one of his nutrient shakes the Medic-nin had insisted he start drinking. Taking the only other chair at the small table, Kitsune poked the straw through the shake’s tinfoil top and carefully slipped the straw into his mouth through his mask slit, and sat, patiently waiting for Naruto to speak while slowly sipping the strawberry-flavored shake. Naruto beamed at him, and rapidly ate his sandwich, before grabbing himself three cups of Instant Ramen, the kettle sitting on the stove-top being put to better use than making Kitsune’s breakfast protein shakes taste closer to hot-chocolate. Silence continued after he’d finished, staring into his empty bowl and fiddling with his chopsticks while Kitsune threw his empty shake bottle in the trash and continued to sit patiently.

“…My landlord decided to fumigate the building without telling me,” the twelve-year-old finally muttered, leaning his face on his hand and resting his elbow on the table, eyes locked on his empty bowl, though they occasionally peeked over at the silent Kitsune while he fidgeted.

“Hmm,” Kitsune replied, frowning behind his mask slightly. He remembered something similar to this happening several times when he was a child, and even after he became a Genin. It really only stopped happening after Pein, and even then, people still saw him as more of a ‘demon brat’ than a human being.

“And then there were these drunk assholes who tried to mug me,” Naruto continued on, shaking his head. “And then I thought about maybe staying with, like, Kiba or Skikamaru or Choji, but I don’t know where any of them live or if their parents would even let me, so I was ready to go to sleep in a place I know in the Red District, but then I remembered you, and asked an ANBU where you lived, and they pointed me here, and that’s pretty much what happened.” He let out a breath, and Kitsune marveled for a moment, about how much he could talk when he was younger, and ruefully wondered where all that loudness went…

Before remembering the excruciating feel of the heated knife cutting through his back, how the lightning Jutsu made his body convulse for every sound he made, and his Trainers constant reminders of _‘A loud Shinobi is a dead Shinobi’_ and pushed the memories away before his muscles could do more than tense ever-so-slightly, fingers tense on his thighs.

“Stay as long as you want,” the ex-ANBU told his younger self quietly, standing and ruffling the boys hair before wandering back into the living room, stripping his battle-ready Shinobi gear off once more, rolling his scarred shoulders as he did so, feeling his many bandages shift and slide.

“Ne, Nii-san?” Naruto asked hesitantly from behind him; Kitsune hummed in reply as he tugged off his black ANBU uniform shirt, leaving him in a dark blue tank-top, ANBU pants and boots, and bandages. “Why do you wear all those bandages?”

“I was horrifically burned while on a mission,” Kitsune replied simply, honestly, as he sat on the edge of his sturdy, comfortable futon, unlacing and pulling off his boots one at a time. A dip beside him told him that Naruto had settled in beside him, and he didn’t so much as twitch as hesitant, curious fingers tugged at his bandages. Instead, he ducked his head so that the boy could unwrap his head-bandages. Once they reached his neck, however, that particular bandage ended, and Kitsune pulled the mess of it into his lap so that Naruto could explore his scars easier, rolling the bandages as fingers skidded across bumps and trenches and areas that were so dead that it literally felt like the boy had lifted his hand from Kitsune’s skin all together, until he reached the more sensitive areas once more.

“…Does it still hurt?” Naruto asked quietly; Kitsune shook his head gently, tossing the roll of bandages on his nearby clothes and turning to flop down on the bed, not minding a bit when Naruto continued to touch his damaged skin with the sad fascination of a boy who had never been properly training in social propriety.

“Did you complete the mission?” was the next question, and Kitsune hummed lowly.

“The mission was to kill someone,” he informed his younger self simply, watching his eyes go wide and horrified. “The man in question committed a Suicide Jutsu, a lava-based one, and that’s what burned me. So, as I am alive and he is dead, then yes, the mission was completed.” Naruto fell silent, nibbling his lips uncertainly, and Kitsune made a mental note of the tick. _Best get rid of that now, Gaki-chan_ , he thought to himself as closed his eyes. _The enemy will eat you alive and spit out your bloody corpse if you show them such a weakness._

“I don’t want to kill people,” Naruto mumbled; Kitsune reached over and tugged the boy down to lie against his side, tucking the boy’s head onto his chest and letting his curious fingers skate over and slip under the bandages there randomly, feeling more of the scars.

“I didn’t either, at your age, Gaki-chan,” Kitsune informed him simply, stroking that blond hair and opening his eyes to stare blankly at his ceiling, wondering if he should put something up there for him to stare at when he couldn’t sleep at night.

“Then why did you start?!” Naruto snapped, fingers clenching in Kitsune’s bandages; the man sighed softly.

“Because when the enemy is more than willing to torture your Precious People and see you alone and broken and lost in the world,” he intoned seriously, not looking at his younger self. “Then killing them first is the _only_ option.” _I’m sorry I hesitated before_ , he said silently to his dead comrades, and curled his arm a little more firmly around Naruto, who was still and silent against him.

 _This time, it’ll be different_ , he vowed silently as minutes passed, and Naruto’s body slowly relaxed into slumber.

Kitsune didn’t sleep at all that night, lost in memories and fragments of a time that he’d make sure didn’t repeat itself.

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_“The Past may not be your fault, but the Future is your responsibility alone.” ~Gene Cruz_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

 

Uzumaki Naruto had only a few people he considered truly precious to him. The Hokage, Teuchi and his daughter Ayame, and he even liked Iruka-Sensei when the man wasn’t yelling at him. A few other Shinobi were alright, most of them either his classmates or ANBU, but, otherwise, his Precious People were few and cherished more than anything in the world, even more than Ramen!

And then, one day, he got scooped up off the street from a dead-run by this weird-yet-awesome ANBU guy who let him call him Nii-san and didn’t mind when he touched his scars and told him he could reach his dream, he just had to work hard! No one else ever told him that. Jiji laughed and agreed that he might take the hat _one day_. Teuchi and Ayame laughed and told him that, if he became Hokage _one day_ , that he had to still stop by and see them and eat ramen. Iruka scolded him and told him to get back to work, and everyone else either laughed or made fun of him or rolled their eyes when they thought he wouldn’t notice.

Not Kitsune-nii-san.

He met Naruto’s eyes through his awesome, messed up fox-mask, and told him exactly what he had to look forward to as Hokage, but not like he expected Naruto to _give up_. He expected Naruto to _work_ for it, to fight for his dream, and that, more than how awesome and no-doubt strong the Shinobi was, was what made him one of Naruto’s Precious People.

Now, though, now something was different. Not with Kitsune-nii-san, but with _Naruto_. Before, being a Shinobi was something awesome. He’d get to do all sorts of kick-ass Jutsu, and fight bad guys and save princesses and protect Konoha, and one day he’d be Hokage and everyone would smile at him and wave instead of ignoring him or spitting at him and sneering. Now though…

Now he realized the full responsibility of a Shinobi. Shinobi _killed_ to protect the Village. They _killed_ and _died_ and were maimed beyond anything he’d ever seen before. They got _tortured_ and they watched their teammates and comrades die and get hurt or tortured too. And they went on missions where any of that could happen, _for the good of the Village_.

He’d been so _angry_ for a little while. So _angry_ that Jiji, who had always been so nice and warm and kind to him, could send people to their deaths and torture and to kill people. But then he remembered how Kitsune had told him that Hokages were kept inside so much, doing things they hated and paperwork and too many meetings to believe. And he wasn’t angry anymore, but, instead, Naruto found himself skipping Academy to sit on top of the Fourth Hokage’s head and think about it all.

Hokage’s killed and died for their Village. The First, Second, and Fourth had all done so, and the Third definitely would. They had all seen war, watched their Shinobi, friends and family and strangers that were their responsibility, go out to their deaths or worse, leaving broken and angry hearts behind. And still, the Hokage’s stood and looked out on the Village, and they _loved_ it, protected it and died for it and killed for it.

Nodding slowly, Naruto returned to Kitsune’s apartment, and asked the man for a favor, which was approved and granted after barely any surprise.

He wasn’t angry or scared anymore.

The next day, Naruto entered the Academy with hard, determined eyes and a small, serious frown, wearing dark grays, blacks, and browns, and didn’t cause any big fuss, ignoring the jeers and mocking of his classmates better than he ever has before. He worked on his assignments and worked hard, because he knew the truth now, and he was determined to reach his dream.

Being a Shinobi wasn’t a game, and even the most boring thing ever that came out of Iruka-Sensei’s mouth might mean the difference between life and death for the Village and his Precious People.

…

Though, he’d probably get Kitsune-nii-san to explain it better to him later, just so he knew he understood it.

 

 

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**

_Difficulty attracts the man of character_ _because it is in embracing it that he realizes himself. ~Charles de Gaulle_

**< ~(*)_(*)~>**


End file.
